


Scissors

by newtisgood (gurajiorasu)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5079703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gurajiorasu/pseuds/newtisgood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who in this lovin’ earth had the idea of selling tied scissors, Newt thought angrily. Who was the slinthead that thought it’s okay to require scissors in order to get our scissors?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scissors

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/131842401908/imagine-your-otp-meeting-when-person-a-is-moving)

Newt pushed the last box he had inside his new tiny flat and closed the door. He huffed and put his arms on his hips, looking at all the boxes like they’re insulting him. His stuffs had just arrived to the States that day. After three days locking himself in an empty flat without anything to entertain himself, finally he could greet his books, bedsheets, and, most importantly, his clean clothes.

Moving abroad sounded amazing when he first heard that he got accepted to this cool university in US. But now, all alone in foreign country, not knowing anyone at all to even get a help with the boxes, Newt began to think that it might be better for him to stay in England, sipping his afternoon tea with his best pal Alby. He would never hear the end of it if he told this to his mom, though, so he sucked it up and kept gazing to his boxes, realizing that everything would really get real once he opened them all up.

Newt took a deep breath. This was it, he thought. His new life started here.

He looked around the space and analyzed it. All that he needed to do was to take the new scissors from yesterday’s shopping bag and free parts of his life from those intimidating boxes. Yes. That’s what he needed to do first before anything else. So he stepped to the table, took the shopping bag, and rummaged through it. He took out spoons, forks, and some other things and then found the scissors.

Newt held it up like he just found a treasure. It was brand new. It was big, shiny, sharp, said to be heavy-duty, and...

The shucking scissors were tied with one of those bad ass cable ties.

Newt tried to pry it open but he couldn’t. His fingers turned red and they were hurting, but the scissors still wouldn’t budge. He even tried to tug the cable ties with his teeth and he was lucky that he didn’t end up toothless.

Who in this lovin’ earth had the idea of selling tied scissors, Newt thought angrily. Who was the slinthead that thought it’s okay to require scissors in order to get our scissors?!

Newt cursed under his breath and held his head in sudden headache. Everything felt like a bad joke and all he wanted to do was to throw the scissors out of his window in order to never see it again.

The thing was, he needed that scissors.

Newt groaned. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the scissors helplessly, feeling utterly betrayed. Now he needed _another_ scissors and he had no idea where to get it.

Well, he actually had an idea – an obvious one – but he wasn’t sure if he liked it.

If Newt was willing to walk down the hall and knock one of nearby doors, greeting his neighbor politely and _finally_ introduce himself properly, he might get that goddamn scissors to open his scissors. But he had avoided to do just that for three days straight now – thinking that he was not ready to have a chat on where he came from, what major he’s taking, and what the story behind his limp leg was – and he didn’t feel like starting anytime soon. It was still a week away from the start of the university, and he’d be forever glad if he could get away from any awkward conversations before it’s strictly necessary.

But then again, the shirt that he was wearing was the last clean one and he was convinced that he would turn into a rotten potato if he’s about to spend another night only staring at the empty ceiling for the lack of something to do.

So Newt clicked his tongue in defeat and stomped towards his backpack, snatching a jar of cookie that his mother had slipped in for times like this. With the shucking scissors in one hand and the jar in the other, he sucked a big breath and walked out his flat. After three seconds of mulling over his options, Newt decided to bring himself to the door right across of his and knocked.

Newt’s mind raced the moment his knuckles made contact with the wood. What if he’s bothering his new neighbor? What if his new neighbor didn’t like cookies? What if his accent freaked this neighbor out? What if his neighbor is a maniac? A serial killer? A ghost? A mad scientist who trapped youngsters so they could make a cure for–

The door before Newt was opened and his brain’s process was terminated in a snap. In front of him, there’s a boy about his age, standing tall with an eyebrow arched in question. This neighbor was definitely not a maniac, Newt decided, and most probably not a serial killer. His smile could be pretty much categorized as killer, though.

Oh, and he’s an Asian.

Newt fumbled with his scissors and jar nervously. He had heard that there were many foreigners around. Well, he himself was one. But it never dawned on Newt that he might encounter language barrier.

Until now.

The neighbor arched his brow impossibly higher and Newt babbled anything that came across his mind, “Ah– M– Moshi moshi?”

The neighbor blinked.

“Uh... I–,” Newt pointed to his flat with his thumb, “I’m new here and that’s my flat,” he shoved the cookie jar to the neighbor’s hands and pointed at it, “Here’s cookie for you. It’s good,” Newt showed his thumb as a supportive gesture to help explain what he was saying. “So, I– Uh... Have scissors,” Newt waved his scissors, “but, you see, it’s tied,” he made an act of pulling his scissors apart to no avail, “so I need scissors to cut it open. Do you have any?”

The neighbor kept staring and blinking. His expression didn’t change and he looked like he was just watching a mute show.

Newt sighed. He made scissoring movement with his fingers in front of his neighbor’s face, “Scissors. Do you have any that I can borrow?”

The neigbor’s lips twitched and it looked faintly like the beginning of a smile. He kept his silence, though, and it’s driving Newt crazy.

Newt knew that this was a bad idea.

“Oh, shuck. You don’t understand anything that I’m saying, do ya?” Newt rubbed his face, “Oh, great. Bloody great. I guess I just need to chew those boxes open or something. No big deal. Yeah. You can just– go back to your kung fu or something. Uh huh. Yeah. Amazing.” Newt massaged his temple. He realized that he might look like a lunatic rambling some alien non sense to the neighbor right now so he tried to smile and said, “Nice to meet you, anyway. I’m Newt from that flat and – Bloody hell I don’t know why I keep talking to you when you don’t understand a thing. Well, a... rigatou, I think? Yeah. Arigatou or something. Bye.” With that, Newt bowed a bit and turned on his heels to succumb back to his pitiful flat. His steps were awfully heavy and his mood had turned to the worst. He knew he should try his luck with other neighbors but apparently, one was enough. He could live with this shirt until next week if he had to. Staring at the ceiling sounded nice enough, to be honest.

Newt was closing his door when a hand gripped it and pushed it open again. Newt turned, a bit startled, and found the neighbor was there, grinning from ear to ear.

The neighbor lifted his other hand and showed a pair of scissors to Newt.

Newt swore he had never been this glad to see a pair of scissors – an _untied_ one, to be exact – but he couldn’t hide his confusion. He just gaped as the neighbor squeezed himself through the door, took Newt’s scissors, cut the cable ties, and gave the scissors back to Newt. He was still gaping when the neighbor passed him further into his flat.

“Name’s Minho,” the neighbor said, “Korean, not Japanese. But I understand English just fine, thank you very much.”

Newt felt the embarrassment of mistaking several things at once creeping up his face. He just stood there, staring at Minho like the Asian had just spelled out magic or something.

Minho laughed. He swung his scissors around his finger and asked, “So, which box should we open first?”

Newt took back every curses that he had thrown for whoever slinthead that thought it was okay to tie new scissors with cable ties. He grinned, closed the door, and pointed on a box, “That one. So we can brew some tea while opening the rest of it.”

Minho snorted a laugh at that but sighed contently anyway when later Newt served him a cup of tea.

Moving abroad sounded amazing and, after hours of laughter with the new neighbor that turned out to be his classmate, Newt thought that maybe it _was_.


End file.
